Consequences
by Kirea-K
Summary: This is how I imagine life after season 5. I know it's going to be tough on O/C, but I tend to wishful thinking. Just let me know what do you think, and if you think I should continue the story.
1. Chapter 1

She slowly woke up feeling his hard chest pressed against her cheek. Dawn light was beginning to filter through the blinds. Still half asleep she reveled in his scent and allowed herself to enjoy the moment. Instinctively she was feeling safe and at home in his arms.

Even half asleep she realized her head was a little clouded…not just because of the early hour… something was wrong… and with the nausea and the piercing pain in her temple, not even her clouded mind could fail to diagnose a hangover… big hangover actually… But, who cared? Somehow drinking had gotten Owen naked to her bed, and they were sleeping together. That was all the news she could swallow in her state. Without thinking, her eyes closed again to avoid the hurting light; she smiled, rubbed her nose against his chest, and planted a soft kiss in his skin. It was still very early, so, she might even be able get some more sleep if she ignored the light and the headache.

Trying to relax and get asleep again, the images of the previous day begun playing into her mind. Crap! George! She didn't jump up because of the drowsiness, but she did get to sit up. That was how she had ended at Joe's… George was gone… Izzie had scared them for a while, but had stabilized, and then she had heard. John Doe was George, and they were fighting for his life down the corridor. Had been like a punch in her stomach. Right now her stomach was revolting again, and it was not because of the hangover. She hugged her knees, and fought the tears flooding her eyes. She wished she could deceive herself thinking it had been a bad dream. She wished she had not entered the scrub room just in time to hear Owen call time of death… she wished she hadn't, but she had. And she had seen his dead body, and Owens's eyes staring at her, sad and worrying.

She might have fooled anyone else, but he knew. He could see her, and he knew she was not a robot. He knew that she was breaking inside, that she had just lost a part of her family, that she was hurting. He just knew. And she needed to run away. She could not face this; she could not face him without breaking down. She needed to get away, and get drunk. Vodka was the answer. It might numb her enough; she might be able to fool herself into believing the nausea was because of the drink.

She remembered that when she left, Owen was still giving the last instructions for clearing the OR. Maybe it was because he was the least emotionally involved of all the surgeons there, but he had seemed to be the only one in control of the situation. She had left the hospital without having a shower or changing clothes, that much was clear in her memory, and she had gone straight to Joe's. Vodka, leave the bottle. Joe had looked at her, wondering, but she had just repeated that she wanted a whole bottle of vodka on the counter. She had not elaborated and he had not dared to ask.

From there on, the images in her mind were not that clear. She knew that Owen had arrived, on civil clothing; half a bottle later… that was her best guess about time. He had arrived looking tired and defeated, but he had not complained, or made any comment about her drunken state. He had just asked for a scotch, and had raised his glass to hers. To George, he had said.

She stared at him; still peacefully sleeping at her side. She could always count on him to be there for her, doing the right thing. He would be there even if it meant drinking with her and carrying her home when she couldn't walk anymore. She could clearly see him leaving her in her bed and turning away to go home, but she had not let him. She had asked him to stay, not to leave her alone. She had nearly begged him to make love to her and to spend the night. To hell with risk, Izzie was struggling, George was gone, and she might be dead tomorrow for some stupid reason, so, at least she would be making love to the man of her life, and sleeping at his side.

Still hugging her knees, and with the tears running down her cheeks, she allowed herself a bitter smile, thinking how he had tried to resist. He always wanted to be the perfect gentleman, and he had been afraid of taking advantage. She was hurt and drunk, and he was still scared to sleep at her side, not the ideal combination; the correct thing was to refuse. But, just as he had needed her after the chocking incident, she had needed him last night. She had asked him to make her feel alive; to give her a reason to go on. She had stared at him, and he had had to oblige. Maybe it had been the Scotch in his blood, maybe he was just unable to resist her, but she loved him even more than the previous day for being her lifeline.

At least they had proven that they were able to sleep together… that was big! They had gone so far in only 24h! George and Izzie had taught them a lesson: life is too short to waste. She would mourn her friend, she would cry her eyes off, but she would also hold on to Owen. She would not waste another minute being scared.

Still with tears running down her cheeks she lay down again in bed and hugged Owen. She felt the steady beat of his heart, and closed her eyes to get some more sleep; the following days were going to be long ones.


	2. His morning

It was late when he woke up, with her weight on his chest, and her legs wrapped around his. Instinctively he caressed her shoulder and placed a soft kiss on her black curls.

He sighed and silently looked at her. So beautiful in her sleep, he could get used to waking up with her by his side every day. He would have been the happiest man on earth if he didn't remember how he had ended there. The couple of scotches from the previous night hadn't been enough to cloud his mind.

He had seen her in the scrub room as he had pronounced George dead, and it had broken his heart. It was hard enough not being able to save George, but he could not see her hurting. And she had run away in the time he had needed to take care of things in the OR. With Derek supporting Meredith, he was the only one left to organize the OR.

He had nearly run after her, scared that she would blame him for George's death. He had done his best to save him, he knew there was nothing more to be done, but nevertheless, he felt a tad guilty, and Cristina was hurting. What if she pushed him away? The simple thought made his guts clench. He needed to find her as soon as possible, but fate was not on his side. He had not been able to avoid the Chief and Bailey, and that had also meant a delay. Everyone was in shock in the hospital, and so was he, but being there for her was his first priority. All the others had someone to support them. Meredith had Derek, Callie was with Arizona, Izzie would have Alex the moment she found out the news. Even the chief had Bailey to mourn with him. But Cristina was somewhere alone, hiding her feelings, and with anyone else oblivious to her pain. He couldn't believe most people thought Cristina was a robot.

In spite of the urge to find her, he took his time in the shower, letting the hot water soothe his nerves. He needed to be calmed and in control when he found her. He knew better than anyone how difficult it was to lose friends, and for the first time; she needed him to be her rock. He had to overcome his own grief and his issues to ease her pain.

He had found her at Joe's holding a half-empty bottle of Vodka. He had known that there was nothing he could say to make her feel better, so, he sat down at her side, ordered a scotch and toasted "To George". At first she had just looked at him and remained silent, drinking. And then she had begun rambling about their first days as residents. How O'Malley had become Bambi and 007. How he had become the brother you never paid too much attention to, and part of the family. Owen hadn't really said much himself. He had just sat there, close to her listening. Maybe she had told him too much in her drunken state. She had told him about her colleagues standing at her side during the ectopic pregnancy, and about Burke. He hoped she wouldn't regret it, or feel bad about it. Actually she hadn't said much; and most of that he had already gotten from gossip, even trying to avoid it. SGH was not a place to keep secrets…

He watched her as she stirred in his arms. She looked peaceful and relaxed. Hopefully she would sleep a little longer; she would need all her strength to cope with the following days. He was worried about her reaction. Probably he should have ignored her plead to stay. He knew he shouldn't have made love to her. But he had been unable to resist her moist eyes. Still holding her, he prepared himself for the worst. She would be hurting, and might blame him for staying, for taking advantage. Or she could regret having said too much about her past. She might even fault him for not being able to save George. Pain wasn't always fair.

For a while, he just remained there, trying not to think too much, and enjoying the feeling of her body in his.

He didn't know how long it had been when she felt her move again; her eyelashes fluttering against his skin, and her nose rubbing his chest. Still sleepy, her eyes met his, and he held his breath until she smiled at him and placed a kiss in his shoulder. A big weight was removed from his shoulders.

"Good morning sleeping beauty" he said with a smile.

"Sshhhhh… morning" was her pained answer, blood pounding in her temples.

"Hangover?" He asked.

"Hangover and depressed" she whispered as she buried her face in his shoulder "Just let me die"

"Never" He whispered with half a smile placing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep a little longer. My shift begins in an hour, and I need to go, but sleep. The next days are going to be tough".

Kissing her sweetly in the lips, he got up and headed for the shower. He allowed himself to relax under the hot water, smiling while smelling the toiletries… today her scent would accompany him the whole day…

She startled him by hugging him from behind in the shower. He hadn't heard her entering the bathroom or the shower, and she loved being in the shower in such different circumstances as the last time. These were not the best circumstances, but she couldn't let him go away without telling him that she was OK. She knew him well enough to know that he was worried, and probably feeling guilty for staying overnight.

"Thank you for staying" she said, laying her cheek against his shoulder blade. "I meant every word I said yesterday, I love you. And "yes" means that we are doing this no matter what. We might be dead tomorrow Owen, so, I'm not going to waste one single day scared and away from you. We are stronger together".

He turned around, unable to speak. He couldn't believe his luck finding her. He just held her tight under the hot shower. She was right, they were going to get through the pain, and together they could overcome anything.


End file.
